Caterwauling

All right, I’m about to explode. Getting some stuff off my heaving bosom today:

1. Don’t correct me if you’re INCORRECTLY correcting me. I do know what I’m talking about sometimes!

2. Don’t be nice to me after being a total jagoff. Granted, some of y’all lack the gene that tells you that ya fucked up. But it’s your fault we’re not buddies anymore; it’s not my fault for not wanting to spend time with you like a freaking delta doesn’t exist between us.

3. There was a question I didn’t answer. Wasn’t for any other reason than to want an extra few seconds to think about it. And even then, the answer was probably going to be, “If you really want to know. …”

4. This goes out to a whole lot of people: Just get on with it already. Move in, move on, move up, move away or move closer. It kills me to know how things are going to turn out but everybody’s delaying the inevitable. And I’m not immune from being “yelled at” in this section, either. I know it.

And as a bonus that’s not about me, because it should ALWAYS be about me but I can make an exception when I can’t actually SAY everything I want to:

5. Holy crap, did Madeliene McCann’s parents kill her? That story always sounded fishy, leaving the kids at home alone and in bed and all. Now everyone’s wondering whether they drugged the kids and they might have given too much to the “missing” 4-year-old and later hid the body.

Interesting. I mean, I’m no fan of kids and I’m totally in favor of knocking ’em out once in awhile to get some peace. But that those parents went on an international campaign and celebrities donated tons of money for search efforts that might turn out to have been wasted, that sucks.

They could get a couple of years in jail for manslaughter, but is anyone going to make them liable for fraud? I know they’ve been grieving and regretting what may turn out to be their own stupid series of mistakes, but damn. Meanwhile there’s no fund-raising being done for the people who REALLY need it? If something happened to any of our families, would anyone launch a worldwide effort to save us?

Hey, I know. Why don’t we use the rest of the money on a search-and-rescue mission for my sanity? Although at this point, it’s more of a recovery effort, but I’d like to know where it all went. …

I awoke at 4 a.m. to a cat breathing in my face. A couple of mornings ago, I awoke to the same one sneezing down into my face, and you just KNOW what kind of day you’re going to have, after such an auspicious start.

Of course, it’s now 5 a.m. and I’ve discovered that said cat left me to go crap on the living room carpet. I think Michael Vick was on to something with killing vicious little four-pawed wonders. When he gets out of jail, he’s getting a package (maybe even with airholes) from me!

Yes, the acerbic wit is at full throttle today. I can’t even write it off as Tourette’s — I think everything and everybody sucks and I’m not afraid to say it. In fact, I know I let quite a few comments slip today, but enh. They’ll live.

I’ve been lying awake for the past hour-plus. (You’d think that, with all the Guinness I consumed tonight, I’d be in a coma till at least Sunday.) And there’s no end in sight to being so tightly wound that I could eat coal and fart out a diamond. At the rate I’m going, I’ll be able to crap out a full tennis bracelet by lunchtime.

I had some funny thoughts while I was tossing and turning, but now, I got nothin’. Well, they made ME laugh anyway. But I suspect other people can’t take a joke … even if they themselves are a walking punchline. (And not a very good one.)

Oh well, back to bed. Maybe this time I’ll get in more than two hours before a cat breathes, belches or barfs in my face. …